Sandman
Well-known member
SANDMAN DEFINITIVE RATINGS: CELTS v SKI SUNDAY
"Feed the Hu-uns, let them know it's Christmas time...
Feed the Hu-uns let them know it's Christmas time...
Do they know it's Christmas time at allllll..."
Hun aid.
"Ooooooooohhhh Viennnnaaaaaaaaaa...
Yaaaa Hunnnnnsssssss...."
Midge Ure.
"Amadeus, Amadeus. Rock me Amadeus. Amadeus, Amadeus. Fuck me, Amadeus."
S. Gerrard.
GORDON THE MYSTIC : 9/10 Man of The Match.... 2/10 Alternate Dimension Fuckwit.
Was the Big Man the only person on the planet who missed the 2018 CL Final? Too busy smashing babes in Ibiza?
Regardless, brilliant goalkeeping display to keep them at bay and us in the hunt - utter nonsense if you think
he could have done better with their goal; nearly made a blinding stop with his shoulder. Superb saves before that.
Then he channels the mug Liverpool keeper and sells the jerseys. WTF?
BUT, the big ghuy has a sixth sense even Bruce Willis cannot fathom; he takes us to the lowest of lows KNOWING the universe is about to deliver the high. Crafty bastard. Forgiven. Finished his post-match interview with a cheeky smile and 'Up the Ra!'*
* No, he didn't. But, y'know...
PC LUSTIG - 7/10
Cassius Clay. Took it, shook it off, considered himself an ethereal entity delivered into this world for the benefit of mankind, got subbed before his concussion led to civil revolt and the annex of Austria due to his similarity to a few thousand Hitler Youth survivors.
For all Lustig nay-sayers, just witness how fragile we appeared without his perpertual big-game focus and influence.
BENKOVIC - 6/10
Big man showed all his promise, footballing ability and inexperience in one torrid appearance; a secure VVD-like display was undermined by his one momentary lapse of concentration and timing when he lost the flight of the ball for their crucial opener; after which he appeared unsure.
However...
JOZO - 5/10
Come on tae fck, fella - IMO -in my opinion; nothing humble about it - Jozo HID behind his 'wee brother' for the game - let the kid make the mistakes/vital interventions while the more experienced Jozo held off and played an ineffective role. Bullshit performance, big man - you're not fooling the Sandman; get intae it or ship out.
We needed your A-game. We got an impostor.
KT - 7/10
Roving bundle of Tim energy. A constant, reliable fan-with-gifted-feet in the jersey; KT let nothing pass him and but for some ineffective crossing could have done major damage.
Still, HIS job was done well.
CALMAC - 4/10
Not so easy the 'quarterback' role, is it, when the opposition don't allot you time or space and press and stifle? Started slow, failed to match their intensity, scarcely functioned all night; upset the nouveau hipsters who see a Calmac-led silken utopian future of the Celtic midfield; kick the acid, bawbags, yer Da's got some advice...
ROGIC -2/10
Hey, mayte, it's Christmas, yup? Crank up the barbie, tap open a tinny, let's go punch a few Great Whites... Antipodean magician awakes from stupor to find unknown-but-electric opposition daring to scurry around him, denying him a kick.
He somehow manifests camouflage deceiving enough to protect him from hallucinogenic battle-armoured kangaroos and identification by Brendan Rogers/Doctor Who as a waste of time and space.
Ambled around like a Tom Rogic autograph hunter/bush tracker in search of the real bloke's trail. He's a celebrity, (struggling to kick his own arse) but we should have got him the fck out of there; as BR failed to acknowledge at half-time...
FORREST - 6/10
Identified as a major threat and muffled by Salzburg like they were Ted Bundy on a spree. Every fecking time he buzzed, they whammed him with the big Ausrtrian fly-swat.
Frustrating night for all concerned - Jamesy, Us, and the freewheeling-cock-loving bar staff of Prestwick...
CHRISTIE - 5/10
And so, with great energy and impact came the universe's payback - a devastating whack through the calf/achilles as the young gun made a great sliding tackle.
Ineffective up to that point he had shown flashes of possibility as we staged a resurgence and his boundless energy looked a potential weapon against a tiring Salzburg midfield.
At the time of writing I've no idea of the seriousness of his injury; suffice to say it didn't look good and could be summed up in one word; 'fuck'.
For all the progress he's made and all the fresh energy he's brought to the team, let's hope it's trivial and he can be fit to savage the animals on the 29th.
SINCY - 6/10
Damn nation - why sub the lightning feet that had showed some promise at HT and deny us pace for a difficult 2nd half? The big malfunctioning kangaroo should have made way for Captain Marvel and Sincy left on to give us leeway and opportunity on the left; granted he hadn't done much but he looked lively enough when service was offered and his defensive effort was undoubtedly committed.
Of all our attacking players, in that first half, he appeared most likely.
EDDY - 6/10
NOT a target-man. But still he strives, un-noticed to many; great effort to work their back-line and try to put some dangerous interplay together; starved of decent service due to our absent midfield.
When he did get a break, was let-down by final touch,/bad luck on a few occasions. BUT, still not the mercurial presence he's shown himself to be - mitigating circumstances, granted.
SUBS:
AJER - 5/10
Would have performed better if BR had let him wear his Batman face-mask to protect his recently-repaired eye-socket. Hence, his petted-lip almost resulted in calamity as he played in Salzburg for a golden chance, saved by a golden keeper (until 80th minute when he became a 'c#nt' apparently...).
Big Ajer - taken by surprise at his inclusion due to Mick's acid flashbacks - luckily kept his moby in his sock and managed to text off the now legendary 'mon tae fuck' message to his Norwegian Rosenborg compatriots with five minutes to go...
BROON - 7/10
Battle-hardened veteran spent entire second-half scrapping and upsetting their rhythm, but failed to get the appropriate response from his team-mates; just couldn't snap the creatives out of their stupor.
However - first name on teamsheet for Mordor Massacre, 29th December.
SAM JACKSON - 7/10
Y'all got a penalty problem, muthufuckas? Ain't no way this carbon-cooled Francaise muthufucka's slammin' home with Royale finesse after freezin' my solid ebony ass off in the ditch all first-half without teasin' the expectations of a nation.
Smackdown one, catches the hand of a Hun, smackdown two - buckle my muthufuckin' shoe - tucked in the corner little Jack Horner, we's give thanks to our viking porno-lovin' Aryan muthufuckin' brothers for deliverance. For the path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men; Hun Mu-thu-fuckas...
BR - 6/10
Freezing night, seemed to freeze himself - left TR on and sacrificed Sincy; obviously hoping to hold the game at 0-0. Failed. Never got what he wanted out of his first-choice set-up and should have been more merciless with under-performers.
Another Euro night where he looked incapable of countering Salzburg's dominance; let-down badly by team but expected him to show more nous in adversity. Got lucky. But got through. Yup.
OVERALL - 4/10
Really poor. As bad as the first capitulation in Salzburg; we blow hot and cold in Europe - brilliant v Leipzig when it mattered, Hun-level of pish tonight when it also mattered.
Midfield never turned up - got bullied and dominated until Broon and Ntcham appeared and had some impact on their tiring legs. But the cultured and slick midfield so many have eulogised recently was completely absent of presence and ideas.
Contrary to popular wishes, it may be THAT formation has had it's (brief) day and we DO need the steel in the spine to make a fist of it.
You want to play pretty, WINNING foootball? - you do it the Salzburg way, with intensity and selfless movement. I still can't name a Salzburg individual 'superstar' but can damn sure wax lyrical about their team function - exactly how we need to be if we want to be taken seriously in Europe.
Nobody will want them in the draw; but plenty will take us.
However, on the ultra-plus Xmas-side WE ARE THERE. Ra Peepul. Are. NOT.
Last 32, another few million bucks and euro recognition. Well done to the Bhoys, and despite the two depressing Salzburg aberrations, one of Germany's finest fell by our sword.
One for the mystical Celts - back in April this year at a Spanish hotel bar I get into conversation with a tidy-enough single early-forty-something Norwegian burd from Trondheim, knows who the Celts are, knows who Ronny Deila is, soft-spot for Rosenborg despite not being a footy fan.
I spend two nights boozing and chatting to her about her cat and polar bears. My missus, however - obviously party to these cocktails-at-dusk sessions - didn't let me pump her, so stow it you sordid speculatory sleazeballs...
Then, high summer in Gran Can I bump into a Norwegian fella and his two late-teen sons all sporting Rosenborg tops - and me the Hoops - as I search for the first-leg showing of our CL clash. We end up watching that and then meeting up a week later for the second-leg. We get through, they part with big smiles and diaphanous metaphysical promises that Rosenborg would always do the Celts a turn...
Well, fuck me, THANK YOU so very much you Norwegian non-Blues... (See what I did there, Python, omen, and deid-club lovers...)
"Feed the Hu-uns, let them know it's Christmas time...
Feed the Hu-uns let them know it's Christmas time...
Do they know it's Christmas time at allllll..."
Hun aid.
"Ooooooooohhhh Viennnnaaaaaaaaaa...
Yaaaa Hunnnnnsssssss...."
Midge Ure.
"Amadeus, Amadeus. Rock me Amadeus. Amadeus, Amadeus. Fuck me, Amadeus."
S. Gerrard.
GORDON THE MYSTIC : 9/10 Man of The Match.... 2/10 Alternate Dimension Fuckwit.
Was the Big Man the only person on the planet who missed the 2018 CL Final? Too busy smashing babes in Ibiza?
Regardless, brilliant goalkeeping display to keep them at bay and us in the hunt - utter nonsense if you think
he could have done better with their goal; nearly made a blinding stop with his shoulder. Superb saves before that.
Then he channels the mug Liverpool keeper and sells the jerseys. WTF?
BUT, the big ghuy has a sixth sense even Bruce Willis cannot fathom; he takes us to the lowest of lows KNOWING the universe is about to deliver the high. Crafty bastard. Forgiven. Finished his post-match interview with a cheeky smile and 'Up the Ra!'*
* No, he didn't. But, y'know...
PC LUSTIG - 7/10
Cassius Clay. Took it, shook it off, considered himself an ethereal entity delivered into this world for the benefit of mankind, got subbed before his concussion led to civil revolt and the annex of Austria due to his similarity to a few thousand Hitler Youth survivors.
For all Lustig nay-sayers, just witness how fragile we appeared without his perpertual big-game focus and influence.
BENKOVIC - 6/10
Big man showed all his promise, footballing ability and inexperience in one torrid appearance; a secure VVD-like display was undermined by his one momentary lapse of concentration and timing when he lost the flight of the ball for their crucial opener; after which he appeared unsure.
However...
JOZO - 5/10
Come on tae fck, fella - IMO -in my opinion; nothing humble about it - Jozo HID behind his 'wee brother' for the game - let the kid make the mistakes/vital interventions while the more experienced Jozo held off and played an ineffective role. Bullshit performance, big man - you're not fooling the Sandman; get intae it or ship out.
We needed your A-game. We got an impostor.
KT - 7/10
Roving bundle of Tim energy. A constant, reliable fan-with-gifted-feet in the jersey; KT let nothing pass him and but for some ineffective crossing could have done major damage.
Still, HIS job was done well.
CALMAC - 4/10
Not so easy the 'quarterback' role, is it, when the opposition don't allot you time or space and press and stifle? Started slow, failed to match their intensity, scarcely functioned all night; upset the nouveau hipsters who see a Calmac-led silken utopian future of the Celtic midfield; kick the acid, bawbags, yer Da's got some advice...
ROGIC -2/10
Hey, mayte, it's Christmas, yup? Crank up the barbie, tap open a tinny, let's go punch a few Great Whites... Antipodean magician awakes from stupor to find unknown-but-electric opposition daring to scurry around him, denying him a kick.
He somehow manifests camouflage deceiving enough to protect him from hallucinogenic battle-armoured kangaroos and identification by Brendan Rogers/Doctor Who as a waste of time and space.
Ambled around like a Tom Rogic autograph hunter/bush tracker in search of the real bloke's trail. He's a celebrity, (struggling to kick his own arse) but we should have got him the fck out of there; as BR failed to acknowledge at half-time...
FORREST - 6/10
Identified as a major threat and muffled by Salzburg like they were Ted Bundy on a spree. Every fecking time he buzzed, they whammed him with the big Ausrtrian fly-swat.
Frustrating night for all concerned - Jamesy, Us, and the freewheeling-cock-loving bar staff of Prestwick...
CHRISTIE - 5/10
And so, with great energy and impact came the universe's payback - a devastating whack through the calf/achilles as the young gun made a great sliding tackle.
Ineffective up to that point he had shown flashes of possibility as we staged a resurgence and his boundless energy looked a potential weapon against a tiring Salzburg midfield.
At the time of writing I've no idea of the seriousness of his injury; suffice to say it didn't look good and could be summed up in one word; 'fuck'.
For all the progress he's made and all the fresh energy he's brought to the team, let's hope it's trivial and he can be fit to savage the animals on the 29th.
SINCY - 6/10
Damn nation - why sub the lightning feet that had showed some promise at HT and deny us pace for a difficult 2nd half? The big malfunctioning kangaroo should have made way for Captain Marvel and Sincy left on to give us leeway and opportunity on the left; granted he hadn't done much but he looked lively enough when service was offered and his defensive effort was undoubtedly committed.
Of all our attacking players, in that first half, he appeared most likely.
EDDY - 6/10
NOT a target-man. But still he strives, un-noticed to many; great effort to work their back-line and try to put some dangerous interplay together; starved of decent service due to our absent midfield.
When he did get a break, was let-down by final touch,/bad luck on a few occasions. BUT, still not the mercurial presence he's shown himself to be - mitigating circumstances, granted.
SUBS:
AJER - 5/10
Would have performed better if BR had let him wear his Batman face-mask to protect his recently-repaired eye-socket. Hence, his petted-lip almost resulted in calamity as he played in Salzburg for a golden chance, saved by a golden keeper (until 80th minute when he became a 'c#nt' apparently...).
Big Ajer - taken by surprise at his inclusion due to Mick's acid flashbacks - luckily kept his moby in his sock and managed to text off the now legendary 'mon tae fuck' message to his Norwegian Rosenborg compatriots with five minutes to go...
BROON - 7/10
Battle-hardened veteran spent entire second-half scrapping and upsetting their rhythm, but failed to get the appropriate response from his team-mates; just couldn't snap the creatives out of their stupor.
However - first name on teamsheet for Mordor Massacre, 29th December.
SAM JACKSON - 7/10
Y'all got a penalty problem, muthufuckas? Ain't no way this carbon-cooled Francaise muthufucka's slammin' home with Royale finesse after freezin' my solid ebony ass off in the ditch all first-half without teasin' the expectations of a nation.
Smackdown one, catches the hand of a Hun, smackdown two - buckle my muthufuckin' shoe - tucked in the corner little Jack Horner, we's give thanks to our viking porno-lovin' Aryan muthufuckin' brothers for deliverance. For the path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men; Hun Mu-thu-fuckas...
BR - 6/10
Freezing night, seemed to freeze himself - left TR on and sacrificed Sincy; obviously hoping to hold the game at 0-0. Failed. Never got what he wanted out of his first-choice set-up and should have been more merciless with under-performers.
Another Euro night where he looked incapable of countering Salzburg's dominance; let-down badly by team but expected him to show more nous in adversity. Got lucky. But got through. Yup.
OVERALL - 4/10
Really poor. As bad as the first capitulation in Salzburg; we blow hot and cold in Europe - brilliant v Leipzig when it mattered, Hun-level of pish tonight when it also mattered.
Midfield never turned up - got bullied and dominated until Broon and Ntcham appeared and had some impact on their tiring legs. But the cultured and slick midfield so many have eulogised recently was completely absent of presence and ideas.
Contrary to popular wishes, it may be THAT formation has had it's (brief) day and we DO need the steel in the spine to make a fist of it.
You want to play pretty, WINNING foootball? - you do it the Salzburg way, with intensity and selfless movement. I still can't name a Salzburg individual 'superstar' but can damn sure wax lyrical about their team function - exactly how we need to be if we want to be taken seriously in Europe.
Nobody will want them in the draw; but plenty will take us.
However, on the ultra-plus Xmas-side WE ARE THERE. Ra Peepul. Are. NOT.
Last 32, another few million bucks and euro recognition. Well done to the Bhoys, and despite the two depressing Salzburg aberrations, one of Germany's finest fell by our sword.
One for the mystical Celts - back in April this year at a Spanish hotel bar I get into conversation with a tidy-enough single early-forty-something Norwegian burd from Trondheim, knows who the Celts are, knows who Ronny Deila is, soft-spot for Rosenborg despite not being a footy fan.
I spend two nights boozing and chatting to her about her cat and polar bears. My missus, however - obviously party to these cocktails-at-dusk sessions - didn't let me pump her, so stow it you sordid speculatory sleazeballs...
Then, high summer in Gran Can I bump into a Norwegian fella and his two late-teen sons all sporting Rosenborg tops - and me the Hoops - as I search for the first-leg showing of our CL clash. We end up watching that and then meeting up a week later for the second-leg. We get through, they part with big smiles and diaphanous metaphysical promises that Rosenborg would always do the Celts a turn...
Well, fuck me, THANK YOU so very much you Norwegian non-Blues... (See what I did there, Python, omen, and deid-club lovers...)
